Superficiality
by LexVictoriaX
Summary: *X-Men: First Class* I had not always been beautiful. In fact, there was a time when I'd been ugly. Disgusting. Shameful. But that was before the war. Before the kidnapping. Before I knew that beauty was a curse... And before he taught me otherwise.
1. Aislynn

**A/N**: Hey guys, so this is my first X-Men fanfiction... I'm kinda excited about it, and I'd LOVE to hear your feedback on how it starts. I've already got some of it written, so hopefully, updates will be in the near future! Reviews are greatly appreciated!

-{Lex}

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but Aislynn and the plot. All the other X-Men belong to Marvel.

* * *

><p>I had not always been beautiful. In fact, there was a time when I had been ugly. So ugly. My pale skin had been scarred from chicken pox and I was never without some kind of bruise. I'd pick at my nails until my fingers were a disgusting bloody mess and my hair was frizzy and bushy. I was hunched and short and chubby and hairy and<em> repulsive<em>.

My mother hated looking at me.

But Diana was a completely different story. She _was_ beautiful. My older sister of two years, her skin was always tanned and her strawberry brown hair was always so soft and straight. She never had any zits, her lips were plump and full, and she had a body to die for. Her eyes were a rich chocolate brown color… A stark contrast to my abnormal violet colored irises.

Everybody had always wondered how such an ugly thing could come out of two beautiful people. Especially since those two such people had previously created such a gorgeous daughter. According to the rest of them it didn't make sense. According to the rest of them I had to be adopted.

Sometimes I wished I was. I prayed for that, some nights. I figured that if I was adopted, then maybe my parents wouldn't look at me like I was an abomination… Because if I was adopted, that would mean they wanted me, right?

Even though I was an eyesore, an atrocity. A _mutant_.

But I didn't know that then. In fact, I didn't know that until _he_ had told me. Until he had _showed_ me. He had told me it was a good thing. A _gift_. Something to be _cherished_.

_He lied_.

Because now I was running. Running for my freedom, my life. From _him _and everything that came with him- the lies, the deception, the illusions, the binds, the _sex_. Gone. All gone. I was out. _Escaped._ He said I'd never want to leave him. He said we'd be happy together. He called it Home. _Home. HOME. __**HOME.**_ I shut my eyes tightly and ran blindly. _MAKE IT __**STOP**_.

My bare feet pounded against the wet concrete as I ran, the smell and image of the dank room still fresh in my mind and on my clothes and skin as I raced down the street, torrential ran blinding against the streetlights. Where are you where are you where are you. HELP.

I was going to vomit. I was going to die. I was going to collapse before I got there and he was gong to find me again. And he was going to punish me. Fuck me. Sell me. He was going fucking kill me. _Oh please dear God help me get away!_

_I _wanted to kill me.

I couldn't stop. I wanted to _scream_, the fact that my hands were bound and mouth was sewn shut only adding to my panic. _Help me help me help me. Get it off get away from me help me._

And then I saw the gates.

_Help me help me help me._

I threw myself up on the metal structure, hoping that I'd cause enough commotion for someone to open the damned things, but upon the first push, quickly learned that they were open. I landed on the driveway with a sickening crunching sound, little bits of gravel bit into my skin as I thrashed on the ground, stumbling to my feet as I continued to race forward. _HelpmehelpmehelpmeHELP!_

I bolted up the stairs, throwing myself at the large wooden door again and again and again in the hopes of creating enough noise so late at night. _Help me help me help me._

_GET AWAY!_

And then a scream. A scream that was not mine. More running and racing. Stares.

The world went dark.

Because I was exhausted.

Because I had a healing factor that was practically depleted due to malnourishment and the fact that I had run myself into the ground.

Because my mouth was literally sewn shut so I couldn't speak and my hands were bound tightly behind my back.

Because he had lied to me when he told me he'd keep me safe. He really just wanted to profit from me. From my voice. From my looks.

…Because I was beautiful now.

Because I was Aislynn Roche.


	2. Siren

**Disclaimer: **Once again, I don't own any characters you actually recognize. I really wish I did, but I don't. They all belong to Marvel. Aislynn belongs to me.

**IMPORTANT!** So, a couple of things. First off, thank you so much to those that had read and Story-Alerted me and stuff. An EXTREMELY special thank you to Romanec for reviewing... Because, as lame as it sounds, I really do live off the things.

Second thing, this update was finished at literally two o'clock this morning. I went to sleep for five hours, and then woke up and edited... Please don't kill me if the editing is not spot on :S ALSO, for anyone planning on continuing to read this, I'm going to be heading off to Europe for a month. I'm a loser, so I'm going to spend a whole helluva lotta time writing and in Internet Cafes. I will try and update, but this whole two-updates-in-one-day thing probably won't happen very often.

Third and final thing, thank God: I really hope you enjoy this. It was really fun to write and I hope you like my spin on Charles Xavier. Please review!

Thanks for putting up with my ramblings,

-{Lex}

* * *

><p>My hearing came back first, warped and choppy and tinny. Everything had a delay before it all crashed back and hit me with a startling crispness. Waves of sound raped my tender ears as I moaned and groaned, feeling restless in my own skin. It was hot. Too hot.<p>

Forcing my heavy lids open, I was surprised to find myself in almost complete darkness, the only light coming from a small lamp in the far right corner of the room. It was a nice room. Grand. Ornate. Something like out of a book or a fairytale. It looked _expensive_. Taking a deep breath, I was immediately given the pleasure of smelling something _good_. Cinnamon, I guessed, or maybe vanilla, or maybe some sort of flower… Whatever it was, it was wonderful.

It fought with my own stench. Death. Death and destruction and sickness and disease and misery and evil- so much evil- and abuse. Mother of God, all the abuse. And illusions. So many fucking illusions.

I looked down, removing the comfortable, soft sheets from my body, my eyes closing in disgust as I saw myself. I was clad in the same lacy white lingerie that I had been wearing for the past week. Because it makes you look virginal, he'd said. Miserable fucker. The color had by now changed to a light grey, the lace tattered and shredded from his clients. His sick, twisted clients.

A new fear gripped my heart with the thought of the man that had promised me everything and shown me nothing. Damien. He didn't have a last name, just Damien. The Illusionist… And I was his Siren. His Vision. That's what Aislynn means, you know: Dream, Vision. But it may as well have been _Puppet_.

He was a monster.

…Then again, who was to say the person that owned this house was any fucking different.

Heart rate increasing, I tried to take a deep breath, my hand immediately going to my mouth as it opened and closed freely. Open. Close. Open. Close. I pressed my fingers to my lips, relishing in the feeling of them. They were chapped and cracked, and they felt like were going to start bleeding at any given moment… But I could _feel _them. If I wanted to, I could _speak._ For the first time in years, I was able to touch my mouth or run my tongue over my lips without feeling yarn. I was able to do something other than sing on command or sit there as nameless men kissed me, trapped in one of his fucking _scenarios. _His visions. His illusions.

But now I was free… And I was not about to stick around and wait for the next bastard to claim me. _Free free free GET OUT._

I swung my feet over the bed, almost sighing as my feet pressed against the plush carpeting. It was so soft. I stayed there for only a moment, taking a few seconds to relish in the softness before I shakily coming to a stand. Quickly inspecting myself for any unhealed wounds, I thanked my lucky stars for such a strong healing factor.

Stretching, I took a deep breath, unable to stop the smile from spreading across my face. Because I could smile now. _Get out._ My eyes darted around the room, paranoid, as I tiptoed to the window. It was dark out, and difficult to see, I looked to be on the second floor, and judging by the height of building in comparison with the trees surrounding it, the fall would disable me for about thirty seconds to two minutes, depending on how I hit the ground. That would give me ample time to escape before someone came running.

"Holyshit."

I quickly turned, eyes widening as my orbs locked on a young man no older than twenty at best, his hand still on the doorknob. Stepping back, I got in some sort of amature fighting stance, baring my teeth at him and getting ready to wield my voice as a weapon. I hissed at him.

He, on the other hand, put his hands up in a very peaceful gesture, his own green eyes wide as he stared at me. "Jesus, Havoc told me you were beautiful but I didn't think-"

"Fuck you." I spat, feeling the usual warmth of my ability start to gather at my fingertips and spread. Havoc. Was he the one that thought he owned me? Who was the kid? _GET OUT._

"Woah," He murmured, "Calm down, I'm not here to hurt you. I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. My name is Sean, or Banshee, I-"

I opened my mouth, getting ready to scream when the man beat me to it. I quickly covered my ears, my brain rattling side my skull as my eyes widened. No human scream was that powerful. He was like me. I took a closer look at him, memorizing his red hair and pale complexion. How was he like me? I thought- Damien had told me…

But Damien was a lying bastard.

The young man was looking at me nervously now, his eyes moving from me to the hall as numerous footfalls drew nearer. I tried to bury myself deep into the wall, glaring at him as he opened his mouth again: "Charles, she's awake! She's awake and she's very hostile!"

I opened my mouth again, glaring at the ginger as he screamed again, his voice forcing me to the ground again as I yelped and groaned in pain. "I'm sorry." He murmured desperately, "I'm so sorry."

I growled at him, jumping to my feet and racing towards him, something wrapping around my wrist and hurling me to the other side of the room. I hit my head, moaning in pain as I looked to the door again, this time wanting to vomit. God, there were so many of them. I tried to get up again, my heart stopping when I found that I couldn't. Frantically looking over myself, I felt tears spring to my eyes.

The metal of the bed frame was wrapped around my fucking _wrists_, another piece of metal hovering just above my windpipe. A solitary, fat tear made its way down my cheek and I spat and hissed again, thrashing against the solid binds. _Get out get out get out save me help me dear God not again please… _

"Stop it!" I screeched, making the multiple people in the room hold their ears. "Let me go! Let go of me! Stop it, STOP IT, **STOP IT-**" I was choking. The metal bar was suddenly pressing against my windpipe and I was gasping, clawing at the air, my feet kicking at nothing. I was going to die. Die before coming right back.

"Erik, stop."

Choking, choking, choking.

"Erik, let go."

I couldn't fucking _breathe_.

"ERIK, I SAID LET GO OF HER!"

I was thrown against the carpet, sputtering and choking and coughing, heaving from the lack of oxygen. And suddenly, another person right beside me, sitting me up, checking my vitals, trying to soothe me. "Calm your mind, it's screaming." A hand on my hair, lips on my forehead, feeling for either a temperature or to heal mental scarring I really had no clue. I pushed at the person, quickly smelling and feeling a man rather than a woman. I struggled harder, pushing and kicking to try and get him off. I would not let them win. I would not allow myself to be taken again.

Until he maneuvered my arms behind my back and held me there. "STOP!"

Heavy breathing on the back of my neck, choked gasps as I tried not to sob. _Not again. Dear God, not again…_

"Don't hurt me." I murmured desperately. The words bitter and foreign on my tongue, and yet so familiar at the same time. The first time I had really spoken in three years and it was to grovel. "Please don't hurt me. I swear, I'll do whatever you want. You can touch me, take me however you like just please- I promise I'll be good, please don't hurt me."

I heard the man curse quietly and bend his head to look at the others in the room. Very soon, I heard shuffling footsteps as the others showed themselves out. The one holding me continued to do so, his voice whispering soft words in my ear that I wasn't calm enough to understand. "You have to calm your mind." He repeated softly, "I can't help you unless you calm your mind."

Help? What did he mean: help? I looked up at him, his words confusing me. He was beautiful. His dark hair was tousled, unruly wisps hanging down in random places, and his eyes were of the clearest blue I had ever seen. He had a kind face and even kinder eyes, the latter framed by an array of think, dark lashes. I stopped, observing him. I went limp. "There." He murmured. He had an _accent_. English. "Much better." One of his hands came to wrap around my waist and drew me to him, tracing soothing patterns on my hip, his breathing deep and calm as I closed my eyes, another fat tear leaking out.

He was pretty. Handsome. And it was always the pretty ones you had to watch out for. I learnt that the hard way.

"What do you want with me?" I asked softly, resignedly, my voice still raw from being unused and screaming. "I'll do anything if you just let me go."

I felt his fingers on my face, his thumb brushing away the tear as he tutted at me. "My dear, you are absolutely free to leave whenever you wish it. You made quite an entrance last night, banging on the door, I can only imagine where you must have come from."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What do you know about me?"

"Nothing." He shrugged, "Well, nothing aside from the fact that you must have come from a very difficult place to arrive at my doorstep in such dire straights. But now that you're healed it only stands to reason that you wish to leave. I understand. However, it is my only condition that before we part ways you have something to eat and perhaps take some new clothes with you."

I was dumbfounded and quickly scrambled out of the man's arms, looking around the trick, the catch. He looked at me sadly. "This is no trick. You truly are free to go. Nevertheless, I wish you'd reconsider. You do have a gift, don't you? Something to do with your voice?"

"How do you know that?" I demanded, backing away from him further. He stayed where he was, once again regarding me sadly. "Your mouth was sewn when you arrived." He murmured, "It was the only logical explanation when combined with your surreal beauty and amazing healing abilities. You're a mutant."

"Mutant." I spat. "Gifted. I've heard all those words before, and they all betrayed me. Lied to me. What makes you different?" I was now huddled about ten feet away from him, regarding him with an air of suspicion I was sure he had never seen before.

_Because I'm like you_. I jumped looking around the room frantically before my eyes settled on him. He was staring at me, smiling a little as my eyes widened. He was inside my head. He was inside my fucking _head_. "GET OUT!" I yelped, closing my hands over my ears, squeezing my eyes shut. I was going to scream. "."

He stopped, reaching out a hand to me before thinking better of it. "I-I'm sorry." He murmured, "I won't do it again, I promise. I just wanted to show you that you're not alone."

I stopped, glaring at him. "I know that." I spat, "The last sick son of a bitch that owned me had fed me that line, too: 'You have a gift, Aislynn, but you're not alone. I can help you control it. Come with me, Aislynn, we'll take on the world together. You're so beautiful, Aislynn'… All fucking LIES!" I screeched. The man jumped, holding his ears in pain. "He was an illusionist." Glaring, I crawled towards him, our knees touching. His eyes widened as I took him by his shirt collar. I was strong. He was not expecting that. "What the hell are _you_?"

"I'm a telepath," He said calmly, "My name is Charles Xavier. I'm not like him, Aislynn, I promise you that. I can show you if you'd let me-"

"Shut UP!" I said sternly, shaking him a little, rattling him. "That illusionist is the bane of my pathetic existence, okay? Don't talk about him. Ever. Never mention him. Do you understand me, Charles Xavier? _Never_. A-And my name is Siren. Not Aislynn. Aislynn is dead."

He nodded, his hands up in defeat. "Of course. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, Siren."

I rolled my eyes at the young man before me, letting go of him as I moved away again, cautious. I looked down at my fingers, the graceful appendages digging into the soft carpet. I briefly looked up at him, laughing bitterly. "Apologies will get you nowhere." I muttered, "I've had enough of those to last _two_ lifetimes. You want to use me."

"Not use you." He countered, pitying me. "Help you."

I scoffed. "Which is just a roundabout way of saying you want me for my abilities."

"No, that's not-"

"Let me guess," I breathed, my voice thick and guttural with emotion, "You want to help me control it, right? You want to help me feel like I have some control over my body? That's all you want… To _help_."

He was silent as I bit my lip and looked up to keep the tears from rolling down my cheeks. I would not cry. "The last person who told me that had me so drugged up on his illusions I didn't know up from down."

"I'm sorry." He said softly, "But you need to know that not all people are like that. I do truly want to help you-"

"No one is that selfless." I countered, "I've been well-versed in the ways of humanity, Charles Xavier. You have another motive. What is it?"

He sighed, looking at me, frustrated. "This is not only the age of Cold War, Siren, and one very powerful mutant is doing everything in his power to spark World War III. It is his hope to destroy humanity and give way to a new dawn of mutants. I won't let that happen. I want to offer you a choice to train with us. The other people you had the pleasure of meeting so briefly were also mutants. Incredible people with incredible gifts. We're trying to prevent the end of the world as we know it."

I looked at him, biting my lip as the words slipped out before I could stop them. "Maybe the end of the world would be better for all of us."

"I'm sorry you feel that way." He murmured, getting up off the floor. He was very clearly fed up with me. "If you change your mind, we'll be in the parlor. You're free to do as you wish."

He left. Looking at the door, I felt the warmth curling within me, pushing and spreading until it engulfed my entire being. I wanted to _scream_. However, upon opening my mouth, I found that I couldn't.

Upon opening my mouth, I let out a strangled cry and buried into myself, crying hysterically on the gorgeous carpet.

I had never felt so alone. Nor had I ever felt so stupid.

He wasn't lying to me. I knew that. I could see it. And, as hard as it was to admit, he wasn't like Damien. The Illusionist was cold, calculated, and had always been that way, right from the moment I met him. He'd been unfeeling, brutish. Mr. Xavier was warm. He was… He was like _home_. But a real home. One where everybody loved each other and cared for and protected one another. His eyes were kind and he held me with such gentleness- no protectiveness, no hint of wanting to keep me for himself. Just to comfort me. At least, that's what it felt like. I had never really had someone hold me just to comfort me before, but if someone did, I'd imagine it would feel like that. Safe.

Then again, Damien had made me feel safe, too. He had whispered the same sweet nothings in my ear, promising me control. Happiness. A _life_. Just like Charles Xavier.

But I was better versed in the ways of humanity now… Wasn't I? Hadn't Damien made me more aware of people and their intentions? Hadn't I learned from him and his mistakes? From my mistakes?

Charles was a good person. I was being illogical. I was being an idiot. I had a chance at a life here, I knew it. I _wanted_ it. God, I wanted it.

Still, it sounded too good to be true. And after my time with Damien, they were stupid if they thought I was going to wholeheartedly trust them. That was asking for trouble. But God I wanted a _life_. One that didn't involve motel hopping and running from Damien's enemies.

So, I'd say yes to Charles Xavier… I'd keep to myself, and then run at the first hint of trouble. I'd keep myself safe this time, even if it killed me.

No strings attached.

Hesitantly walking out the room, I spent a good fifteen minutes trying to find a way to the parlor. Somehow, I ended up in the kitchen, my breath hitching in surprise as I came face to face with the assumed man of the house. He was in the midst of drinking a glass of water but put the cup down upon seeing me, his brows raising in a mix of surprise and curiosity. He hadn't thought _I'd_ be the one going to _him._

Taking a deep breath, I looked at him, still suspicious. "I'd get to stay here? I mean, if I trained with you? I'd get to… live here?"

He smiled slightly, nodding his head lightly. "Of course."

"And I'd be safe? I could leave whenever I wanted?"

He pursed his lips. "I'd hope you'd stay and fight with us, but no, I won't keep you against your will."

I paused for a moment. "Would you swear to it?"

He was in the midst of taking another sip of water, almost choking on the liquid as he put the crystal cup down on the counter once more. "Sorry?"

"Would you swear on pain of death that you'd never make me do anything against my will? That you'd treat me like an equal and let me live here… safely?" I asked nervously, eyes darting around the kitchen, refusing to meet his.

He leaned back on the counter, regarding me with the kindest look I had ever seen. It was like, even though he knew nothing about me, he genuinely cared for my wellbeing. Not even Damien had looked at me like that. "I would." He replied. "I swear I _will_. And I'm a man of my word, Siren, of this I can assure you."

I nodded nervously. "O-Okay, then. I'll, um, I'll train with you. If you'll still have me, I mean. I know I'm not the easiest person to-"

"Wonderful!" He cut me off, smiling widely. "Of course we'll have you! In fact, we're thrilled to have you! God, just wait until Alex and Sean hear of this, they're quite taken with you, you know." I smiled sheepishly, my cheeks glowing. I was overwhelmed by his enthusiasm. He suddenly stopped and turned to me, his hand raising almost like he was about to hit me. Fearing the worst, I yelped and jumped back, shaking slightly as my fists clenched, my fingernails biting into my palms.

The room was silent and my eyes were locked on his, _pleading_ with him. _Don't hurt me don't hurt me don't me_. Mr. Xavier looked at me, his eyes apologetic as he smiled sadly. "I was just- I thought we'd shake on it." He murmured, showing me his palm. "Shake hands, you know? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

I nodded, quickly composing myself. _Don't be stupid. He promised he wouldn't hit you. He gave you his word._ "N-No." I replied, "_I'm_ sorry. I-I didn't know, and I just assumed- S-Sorry. Won't happen again. Promise."

He had retracted his hand the moment I yelped and was now smiling at me, like the incident before had never happened. However, I noted, the smile did not reach his eyes. In fact, it looked forced. Very forced. He was upset. "Not a problem, my dear. I shouldn't have been so quick to forget… It was my fault."

Swallowing thickly, I took a cautious step forward, my arm extended as I walked towards him, my eyes wide as I looked at him imploringly. _Just take it._ Looking at me curiously, he extended his arm as well, his palm up as my smaller hand fit into his. We shook slowly. "Thank you, Mr. Xavier." I murmured, looking at him seriously.

"Charles." He said softly. "I prefer to be called Charles, if you don't mind."

"Charles." I repeated, the foreign words making me smile. Momentarily confused, I brought my fingertips to my lips, amazed at how… how _good_ it felt to smile genuinely. I hadn't done it in three years. The thought made me smile even more widely. "Sorry." I breathed, immediately retracting my fingers when I realized he was staring, my cheeks no doubt a bright red. "I was just- Sorry."

"Don't be." He grinned. "You have a wonderful smile."

"Th-Thank you."

"Anytime. Now," He gave me a less serious look, one in which his eyes sparkled. "You must be starving."

I looked at him and shrugged. "I'm fine." And I was. Damien fed me well as far as psychopaths went. He was making so much off of me that he figured feeding me one good-sized, relatively healthy meal a day was an investment. He couldn't have me too thin or too large, after all, his business depended on it.

"Are you sure?" Charles asked.

I nodded.

"It would make me feel much better if you ate, Siren. I don't know how you were being fed before-"

"Don't talk about it." I interrupted sharply, glaring. "Promise me you won't."

"Aislynn-"

"I told you," I gritted out, "She's **dead**. It's Siren, now. And Siren doesn't have a past. Aislynn and whatever happened to her doesn't exist anymore, understood? Nothing, Charles. Not another word."

"Understood." He replied slowly, eyeing me curiously as I cautiously brushed past him, my eyes still darting around. I was still paranoid. Opening the fridge, I was bombarded with an array of wonderful colors and smells. Overwhelmed, I picked up the first thing I could get my hands on and held it out from him. A slice of cold pizza. "Is this okay?" I asked, suddenly unsure of anything and everything. I had been spoon-fed half-conscious for the past three years. I had no idea how to do… anything, really.

I couldn't remember the last time I had taken a shower by myself, or listened to music, or read a book, or slept alone, or dressed myself. I was out of practice. Hell, I didn't even know what I liked to eat. Did I like pizza? I couldn't remember. What about milk? Soda? I liked water, I knew that… but what about everything else?

I hadn't been conscious enough to taste most times, and when I was, he force-fed me. Said it was for my own good.

My panic must have shown on my face because Charles took the slice from me and put it on a plate before placing it in a contraption that I recognized as a microwave. My parents had one. I was staring at the device, my gaze so intense that Charles cleared his throat lightly, breaking my concentration. "It's a microwave."

"I know that." I snapped, frustrated at my helplessness.

He was silent then, taking out the warm food and setting it on a small table in the corner of the room. He sat down in the chair across from where I was apparently meant to sit. "Go on." He encouraged. "It's pizza. It's really good, too, we had some earlier."

"I know what it is." I muttered, pulling out the chair and sitting down. Looking at it suspiciously, I bit my lip, ashamed of the words that wanted to push themselves past my lips. He had been so kind to me, he'd never given me a reason not to trust him… But that also made him dangerous. I stared at the food for a while, startled when he suddenly reached across the small tabletop and took the slice from me, taking a large bite of it. "It's not poisoned." He told me. "Promise. There's nothing in there but cheese and bread and vegetables. Raven made it."

Seeing that he wasn't dropping dead or becoming woozy, I picked at bits of the pizza slice with my fingers, putting the pieces in my mouth and chewing slowly, thoughtfully. My first real meal in three years. It was warm and gooey and good, and I couldn't help but groan softly as I swallowed the first bite. It was _delicious_. The flavors were so _rich_. "Thank you." I murmured hastily, stuffing the rest of it in my mouth as quickly as possible. It was _scrumptious_ and I was suddenly so _hungry_.

And then, a bowl of salad was placed right next to my plate, along with a fork and a tall glass of water. Charles sat and watched me eat, a small smirk present on his face as I wolfed down the food and water in record time, once again looking at him imploringly. _More. _

"Any more and you'll be sick, I'm afraid." He informed me regrettably, taking the dishes to the sink and filling them with water.

It made sense, I guess. The food was much richer than anything I had been accustomed to eating, so my digestive system probably wasn't in the proper state to deal with so much of it at once. But I still wanted more.

Looking at the curious, blue-eyes man before me, I observed as his eyes closed, his body leaning against the counter. He sighed, exhausted. What time was it? It was dark, so obviously nighttime, but it had been that way since I'd woken up. Looking over Charles more closely, I realized that he was in a set of clothes that were much too light and comfortable to be street wear. He was wearing pajamas.

"W-Where is everybody else?" I asked nervously, obsessively scratching my right arm until it turned red. He immediately zoned in on this tick, observing it for a moment. I tried to stop as soon as his eyes locked on me, but soon found that I was powerless to stop. "In bed." He said easily, his eyes going up to meet mine. "It's late. We should probably get to bed as well."

"Oh, I-I don't sleep." I informed him quietly, "It's just this thing I have."

"Is it part of your mutation?" He asked enthusiastically, his eyes suddenly alight with a childlike curiosity and eagerness. I frowned at him defensively. "No! It's just… it's just a thing I have. I just- Lately, I haven't been able to sleep. That's it."

"Oh." He deflated a little and I cocked my head to the side.

"Y-You're really into this mutation stuff, aren't you? I mean, you know a lot about it."

He smiled at me, his chest puffing out proudly. "I graduated from Oxford University with a PhD in genetics, biophysics and psychology."

"But you're so young!" I blurted out, blushing as the words left my mouth. Though I hadn't been around for the past while, I was pretty sure that comment would be considered rude.

He chuckled, seemingly happy that I was loosening up around him. "I graduated from Harvard when I was sixteen." He told me, glowing with pride, "Then I went to Oxford. The original goal was to be a Professor, but then… plans changed."

Nobody had to tell me about plans changing.

We sat in the kitchen in silence for a while, Charles soon turning and quickly washing my dishes before he looked back at me, a tired smile on his face. "To bed, yes? God, I'm exhausted."

I nodded in complete agreement, looking at the young man curiously as he filled my glass of water again and handed it to me. "In case you get thirsty during the night." He explained.

"Oh. Thank you."

He merely smiled at me, ushering me up the stairs and helping me to my room. Once I was inside the large, grand space, he took the glass from me and put it on the bedside table, taking my hands in his and effectively stealing all my attention. "Wait here a moment, will you? I'll be right back."

He was back within minutes, carrying a variety of soaps and pieces of clothing in his arms as he laid out everything on my bed. "There's a bathroom through that door right there." He pointed to the door on left-hand wall of the room. "And here are some soaps and shampoos for you. I also brought some of my sister's clothes. You look to be thinner and taller than her, but they should fit for one night. Temporarily, I mean. Is that alright?"

I nodded, once again dumbfounded and overwhelmed at the wealth and kindness laid out before me. "A-Are you certain?" He asked again, doubting me even further as my eyes frantically jumped form one item to another. Coconut scented soap. Vanilla shampoo. Lavender conditioner. Kiwi body scrub. Lavender-scented body oils. Strawberry-Vanilla moisturizing cream. A pink washcloth. A brush. Pajamas that looked so _soft_. So _comfortable_. A towel that was so white and fluffy I dared not touch it. Gently, Charles took my hand and the array of soaps and scrubs on my new bed and tugged me towards the bathroom, opening the door and turning on the light before setting everything down where it was supposed to be.

I was in awe. The bathroom was white with gold trim around _everything_. I felt out of place and filthy in the spotless expanse of porcelain and granite. I had never seen such a beautiful wash closet in all my life… This bathroom was meant for Kings, I was sure of it. Laughing softly at my awed expression, Charles brought me further into the room, quickly showing me how to work the shower and toilet and everything else. I was too overwhelmed to snap at him for thinking I didn't know how to use the most inane, mundane things known to man. "All set?" He asked after turning me towards the large mirror that stretched over the sink, the large piece of glass covering the entire top half of the wall. His reflection stared at me expectantly.

I didn't answer him.

I didn't answer him because I was too pre-occupied with myself. I hadn't seen myself in three, maybe four years, and in that time… Holy hell, had I changed. My breasts had filled out nicely, my body a beautiful hourglass shape. I couldn't see the entirety of my legs, but the top half looked wonderful. And my face. Dear Lord, my face. My eyes were a gorgeous almond shape, the violet iris that I had once found so repulsive, made me a surreal, almost dreamlike beauty. My lashes were long and dark and thick and my mouth was pink and dainty and perfect. My nose curved in a delicate slope and I could clearly see my refined cheekbones.

But I was dirty. Filthy. I was still very thin, my skin was caked with soot and dirt and grime and my dark hair was stringy and oily and repulsive. I smelled like a clusterfuck of death and misery and poverty, and my undergarments looked like they had seen better days about five years ago. I was a mess… And it killed me that despite that fact, I still managed to look gorgeous. Elegant.

Quickly looking away from the mirror, I found myself face to face with Charles, my breathing heavy and labored from the recent encounter with my reflection. "You're beautiful." He told me softly, smiling at me slightly.

I scoffed and stepped away from him, nodding my thanks. I was not in the mood to talk. Not about this. He understood and began to walk out, pausing to look at me before he left me. "Goodnight, Siren. Pleasant dreams." He murmured sweetly.

I didn't have a chance to answer him; too shocked that he had wished me a good night's sleep in such a kind, pure way. Shaking off my stupor, I quickly went into the shower, shedding my clothes as if they were on fire. God, freshwater felt so good. I scrubbed myself raw with washcloth and soaps and oils, washing my hair three times and conditioning it twice. I washed myself at least five times. A half-hour later, I found myself looking at a completely different person.

Her tanned skin was glowing and moisturized, her eyes were bright, and her hair was wet and thick and long, and stopped right above her waist. She looked comfortable and clean and… Happy. Very happy. She was smiling. I liked when she smiled.

Hanging up my towel to dry, I approached the bed slowly, frowning as I saw a note left on the bedside table:

_Dear Siren,_

_I hope you don't mind but I changed your sheets. These should be more comfortable. _

_Sweet dreams,_

_Charles_

I touched the fabric on my new bed, breath hitching as I felt how _soft_ it was. It was silky and smooth and felt like a cloud. Just like the bath towel. Heart pounding with excitement, I crawled under the covers and wrapped myself in them tightly. I felt safe. Comfortable. The most relaxed and happy I had ever been. Like nothing could touch me.

Like I was _home_.


	3. People

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but Aislynn.**

* * *

><p>True to form, I didn't sleep more than fifteen minutes. I spent the entire night listening to the creaks and groans of the old house, my body alert and on edge from the foreign sounds. I was sure that the next moan of the aged walls and floor would be someone coming to take me in the most carnal, animalistic way.<p>

So, I didn't sleep. Instead, I stared at the heavy wooden door leading to the hallway, suspicious and ready for an attack. And, when I did drift off- fall prey to the comfort and warmth of the bed- I awoke only moments later with a start, chastising myself.

Because any moment not on guard was an invitation for someone to take me. Any second spent dreaming was a precious second that could be the difference between a life of imprisonment and a real _life_. Though I knew Charles was not lying, blindly trusting the telepath was still, and would forever be, out of the question.

I was thankful when the sun began to rise.

Slipping out of bed, I made my way to the two grand windows facing the bed and pulled the curtains all the way, my gaze immediately falling on the grassy estate the house was built on before shifting to the sky. I would spend the next few hours watching the big ball of fire rise in the sky, the colors of the horizon turning from red to pink to orange.

But I soon became restless. By then, it had to have been about six or seven o'clock in the morning. Reasoning that nobody in the house would be awake at that hour, I forced myself from the ornate room I had slept in. _My _room.

I explored the heavily decorated hallways, walking around what I discovered was more a mansion than a house with an odd sort of excited enthusiasm and zeal... It was so _pretty_. Every painting, every vase, every urn, all somehow coordinated perfectly with the painted walls and detailed carpets. My feet relished in the softness of the rugs and the smoothness of the dark wood, coolness of the tiles. I didn't know where I was going, and got lost maybe about three times, but soon found myself recognizing the corridors I was wandering. Soft voices wafted from a room further down the hall, following the smell of warm food and drink. Breakfast. The kitchen.

_People._

"I don't know about her. She's so… violent. Hostile."

"She's gorgeous."

"She's a liability, is what she is."

My body froze and I felt my heart race, eyes widening as I stood there, paralyzed. People. People. _People_. Why were there people awake this early? Had I really spent that much time exploring? It couldn't have been past eight o'clock… Did normal people wake up around that time?

"She's _dangerous_. She was hell-bent on killing all of us last night. How do we know we can trust her?"

Apparently so. And, apparently, they all hated me.

Taking a deep breath, I silently padded past the kitchen, soon finding myself at the doors of a patio. It was a stone structure and had steps leading down onto a gravel path that seemed to not only continue straight into a garden, but wrap around the house as well. The patio itself had a table and chairs, along with a couple of tastefully placed flower pots... But I wasn't interested in the stone expanse, nice as it was. No, I was interested in the green. The grass. The earth.

I eyed an old key that was already stuck in the door and turned it, pushing the mahogany slab open as I slipped out of the building. The fresh air felt nice against my warm skin and I ran down to the grass with a small smile on my face, sighing as my bare feet hit the cool green surface, my toes digging into the earth. It felt wonderful. Refreshing. Cool. _New_. God, I wanted to dance and laugh and smile and sing all at once, my fingertips tingling with my mutation as I let myself tumble to the grassy floor, smiling softly.

To say that the thought of running didn't cross my mind would be a lie… But to say that I acted on the impulse to flee would also be one. I sat in the grass, chewing my dry bottom lip thoughtfully as I tried to battle and control the two conflicting desires inside of me._ Run run run get out run RUN_.

_But why would I run?_

I was being fed. I had shelter. I was safe. Nobody had come after me late last night, nor early this morning. I had not been drugged. I had not been taken advantage of. I had only been met with the utmost hospitality and kindness… And yet: _Runrunrunrunrun_-

"You've decided to stay."

I jumped and immediately turned around, teeth bared at the intruder. My hands sunk into the grass and I felt a stronger tingle on the tips of my fingers. Eyes locking on the person, my heart constricted in paralyzing fear. It wasn't Charles.

But lord, he was just as handsome. Tall and rugged-looking, with green-eyes that seemed to pierce your soul. They were cold, not like Charles' warm blue ones, but entrancing and gorgeous nonetheless… This man had seen pain. Violence. He reminded me of _Damien._. Looking away for a moment, I composed myself, biting my lip as I nodded mechanically at him. "Yes."

He cautiously took a step towards me, hands up in surrender as he neared. He promised softly not to hurt me and I looked away again, deeming him completely untrustworthy. He reminded me too much of what I had run from.

He was crouched beside me when he dared speak again: "I don't believe we were properly introduced. My name is Erik Lensherr."

_"Erik, stop."_

_"Erik, let go."_

_"ERIK, I SAID LET GO OF HER!"_

Erik.

My instincts screamed at me and I crawled backwards, eyes wide and alert with fear. _Run run run GET OUT get out runrunrungetoutgetout._ I opened my mouth, ready to scream when he jumped forward, a hand on my mouth. "Don't hurt me." I mumbled against him, "Please- _please_ don't hurt me."

He looked at me curiously, eyes bright as he observed my behavior. "Well, we knew you were beautiful." He murmured, "But we didn't know you were smart." The hand came off and I spat at him angrily but quickly drew back, remembering my place and quickly preparing myself for a beating. My eyes squeezed shut and I whimpered. He was the one with the power here.

I bowed my head, expecting a hit that never came. Shaking slightly, I watched as he wiped his cheek of my saliva, looking at me with a mixture of disgust and respect. "You know, I think we can be friends." He explained calmly, patiently, "Very good friends. You've no doubt seen pain and suffered during your life and I can assure you that I've had the same sort of experiences. I understand you, you see? I understand why you're guarded."

This piqued my interest and I looked at him curiously. "What pain have you known?"

His eyes darkened. "The Holocaust."

Biting my lip, I observed him, his mouth quirking into a half-smirk at my caution. "And you're Charles' friend?" I asked dubiously, finding it hard to believe that someone as happy and kind as Charles Xavier would befriend someone so dark.

He smirked at me fully and once again I drew myself away, knowing I was being much too bold for my own good. But Erik didn't seem to want to hurt me. "Best friend." He answered.

I held out my hand, the appendage shaking violently as I was suddenly very aware and alarmed at how much trust I had put in telepath. It was too much, too soon… And yet the words came out anyway without the slightest bit of remorse. "I'm Siren."

"Charmed." We shook hands.

Looking at him from the corner of my eye, I bit my lip and took a deep breath, flinching as I spoke out. "You tried to kill me." I stated, gathering enough courage to stare at him head on.

"You tried to kill _me_." He countered. "I was protecting myself."

I didn't comment, knowing that I had. I also knew that the attempt he had made to end my life was very unnecessary, and that made him all the more dangerous. Thoroughly uncomfortable with the conversation, I chose to drop that topic and continue to a new one. "You bend metal? That's your mutation?"

"Control." He corrected calmly, "I control metal. Any and all types of metal."

I nodded at him, starting to become more confident in his presence. He hadn't tried to kill me or hurt me yet, and if that was his goal he surely would have done so by now. I still didn't trust him, but I was sure he was not going to be ending me any time soon.

"What can _you_ do?" He asked suddenly, eyes on me.

I froze, floundering for a moment. I didn't want to answer. Thankfully, as I opened my mouth, not only did my stomach growl, but Charles opened the patio doors, closing them softly behind him as he made his way towards us, smiling. I was unprepared for the amount of relief I felt. "Good morning!" The telepath chirped; no doubt very enthused that Erik and I were talking civilly. "Raven's made pancakes and they're on the table. Would you two like some breakfast?"

My stomach growled again and I felt my cheeks flush. I stood up a little too enthusiastically, relieved that I wouldn't have to answer Erik's question. I hated my mutation. It was hard to control and it was what had gotten me into trouble in the first place. If I had stayed an ugly nobody my life would have been empty, but at least I would've been safe. Giving a half-nervous smile to the telepath, I tried to hide the fact that I really did not want to meet more people.

I like people, don't get me wrong. I like looking at and observing them; how they speak, behave, their physical features and how they differ to their actions. That's fun for me. Interesting. I like people from a distance. They're safe from a distance. They can't hurt you.

People seemed to almost think the same about me. The only people I'd ever been approached by were misogynistic bastards or young horny men that wanted a quick fuck. I had been hit on once by a very drunk lesbian, and Damien had thought that it would be a good idea for me to test my sexuality.

I am straight.

I'd like to imagine that the good people, the nice people, they stayed away, intimidated by me. At the beginning, I was superficial and drunk from all the attention. I was a bitch. But I learnt my lesson. I realized that they weren't in it for _me, _they were in it for how I _looked._ My _mutation._ Not the horrendously ugly girl that was kept hidden by her superficial parents. The humans either loved, or hated the new Aislynn… The _Siren._

They stared at her. Pointed at her. Admired her. Glared at her. Whispered about her.

And I resented them for it. I resented the fact that they loved her so much and rejected _me_. That most men were enamored by her and most women despised her. At the beginning, I openly hated all people in general- women especially. How _dare_ they not like me? I was Aislynn Roche… Arguably the most beautiful woman on earth. Or, at least, in New York City.

But then I saw what beauty could do to a relationship. It was a huge part of my mutation, entrancing people… Entrancing _men_. I hadn't yet figured out why, but about five to ten minutes after I had walked into a room, I would easily have 85% of the male population in that area looking at me. This made the girlfriends of those men very angry. And, with time, I came to understand that. During what I called the _incubation_ period with Damien- the six months prior to his little business venture- I learnt to be patient with humans. It wasn't their fault that they didn't like me… It was mine.

So I buried the resentment and tried to tone my looks down in any way possible. I stayed out of bars and clubs and followed Damien like a lost puppy. And, from there, things only went from bad to worse.

So, you can hopefully imagine how terrified I was to meet the other mutants. I was sure that they were neither like Erik, nor Charles from the way they had spoken about me. They were mutants, but they acted like humans. And as I walked ahead with the telepath, refusing his arm out of caution, I found my heart clenching and body working against me.

"Are you alright?"

I jumped at his voice, nodding at the man of the house as I swallowed thickly, looking back to make sure that Erik was still behind us and not within earshot.

"Are you sure?"

Another nod, though I wasn't very sure at all. In fact, I felt like I was going to be sick. I grabbed Charles' arm to steady myself. He supported me without complaint. "How was Erik?" He continued the one-sided conversation, trying to distract me from the fact that we were almost at the kitchen. "Was he nice with you? A gentleman?"

Yet again, I nodded, not expecting the telepath's sigh of relief. He smiled at me. "Well then, my dear, the worst is over for you. The others are a quite a bit more friendly."

Dear God, I hoped so. Though judging by their conversation this morning, I highly doubted it.

And then we were just outside the kitchen. Charles stopped and I felt my feet anchor themselves to the ground, my eyes wide and nervous. Erik brushed past us and entered the room. "You'll be fine." He whispered.

"They hate me." I blurted out quietly. "I heard them this morning. None of them trust me."

"Do you trust _them_?" He countered.

I gave him a sharp look. "That's different. You have no idea-"

He held up his hands in defeat. "I don't want to argue with you, Siren." He murmured kindly. "I'm merely asking you to see it from their perspective. You came to us a mess and then first thing you tried to do was kill us-"

"Because I had no idea where I was!" I whispered violently, "I was-"

"I'm not blaming you." He told me. "I'm just asking you to see it differently. Sometimes, it's all a matter of perspective."

Perspective. Fine. I still didn't want to meet them. "Charles, I don't think this is a good idea-"

"It's actually a wonderful idea." He replied sternly, "You need to meet them and they need to meet you. I'll not have you cower behind me or in your room while you train in my house. You'll be fine, Siren, they won't hurt you. _Nobody_ will hurt you here."

I was hard pressed to trust him and closed my eyes tightly, opening them as my cheeks turned red from embarrassment. I was acting like a child. A stupid, needy, scared child. Brushing past the telepath in a strange burst of confidence, I walked into the room, my eyes darting from person to person. Blonde. Redhead. Another blonde. Dark hair. Dark hair. Erik. Charles behind me. All sitting at the small table, squished together and talking. The conversation stopped. My confidence shattered. Nervously, I waved at everybody. "Hi."

Their eyes were glued to me, the two younger-looking boys gazing in admiration. I hated it. There was nothing to admire about me. "My name's Siren." I offered. All of them staring. Looking at me. Some curiously, some in awe, some… surprised. Others untrusting. I sent Charles a panicked look, wanting nothing more in that moment than to say _I told you so_.

"I'm Sean. Sean O'Connell." The redheaded kid jumped up, immediately slowing down as I yelped and moved back, frightened. Cheeks burning in embarrassment and frustration, I nodded slowly, moving closer to him cautiously, my hand extended like Charles had previously done for me and I had done for Erik. A handshake. Sean grasped my hand lightly, his palm moist with sweat as he smiled sheepishly at me. I was about to start shaking when the young man suddenly swept down to press his lips to the back of my hand. I tensed, my heart stopping in panic at the feel of it. _Get it off get it off GET AWAY_!

I immediately pulled the appendage back, my cheeks glowing brighter as I bit my lip. "Um, you're, uh, you said you were Banshee, right? Sean or Banshee?"

His eyes lit up. "Yeah! Yeah, you remembered! Yes, I'm Sean but my codename is Banshee-"

"And I'm Havoc." The second teen looked at me, getting up slowly and smiling at me encouragingly. "But you can call me Alex. Summers. My name is Alex Summers."

Havoc. I remembered him mentioned yesterday. He was blonde, his eyes light and kind, his face nice and welcoming. Just like Sean. But, unlike Sean, he was guarded. I liked guarded. "Alex." I repeated, smiling. "Hi."

"Hi." He breathed.

"And I'm Sean!"

"Right." I couldn't help but smiling even wider at their antics. "Sean and Alex."

They smirked.

"I-I'm Hank McCoy." Another voice said timidly. I turned. A pale, thin teenager. Green eyes. Dark hair. He stumbled out of his seat, chest heaving as he towered over me, looking at me nervously. I smiled at him. He smiled back. "Hank." I repeated, "Nice to meet you."

"Y-You, too."

I stepped back a little, giving myself some space from the three boys as I smiled again, looking at the others with more confidence. It wasn't so bad. They were nice. The good guys. My eyes locked on the blonde girl. Pretty. Kind face. Green eyes. Youthful. "Hi." I said softly. I brushed past the boys, stopping in front of her. She froze. "I'm-"

"I know who you are." She spat. "You monopolized my brother last night and had Sean and Alex reduced to lovesick idiots."

My eyes widened in alarm and Charles stepped forward, giving her a sharp look. "Raven-"

"No! She-"

"Raven-"

_Run._

"Charles, stop it, she's ruining everything! She's dangerous! She came here, woke up, tried to kill us and then decided it would be nice to get cozy with _you_-"

_Get out of there, Private._

"Raven that's enough." The telepath said sharply, glaring. "Siren is going to train with us. She did not monopolize me any more than you do, and to even suggest that her intentions are as wicked as you make them out to be is insulting for the both of us. I-"

I knew this would happen. Coming here was a mistake. I spoiled it. I spoiled everything. _LEAVE._

"And what kind of name is Siren anyway? Charles, how can we trust her if we don't even know her real name?"

_Run run run GET OUT get out run leavepleaseleaverun! _My head was killing me from all the voices yelling inside it, my ears ringing with argument. "Shut up!" I shouted, hands on my ears, eyes squeezed shut as I tried to block everything out. "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!"

And then they were all looking at me again. But I wasn't shy, I wasn't scared… I was tired. Angry. All I was trying to do was be nice. I toned down my voice to patiently try and get through to the blonde.

I looked at Raven, who by now had an expression of frustration adorning her pretty face. "Listen," I said, my tone calculated. "I know what I do. I don't know how or why, but I know what happens to people when I'm around. I've been living with it for the past four years, and if I could stop it, I would, but I can't. I'm sorry."

"Bullshit."

And that was the last fucking straw. She didn't see that I hated being in my own skin? Fucking fine with me. She didn't see that I wanted nothing more than to claw myself out of my body and be free of all the shit that came with looking like I did? Great. Let her think what she wanted to think. It was no skin off my back. "Not bullshit." I retorted, my voice loaded with bitter anger. "It's true. But if you don't want to believe me, that's your prerogative. I'm just going to do what I can to help and then be on my way. I'm deeply sorry that I made you feel as if I was ruining everything, and I would leave if I could, but unfortunately, leaving would mean living on the street again and I'm not really up for getting tricked into the human trafficking trade again. In the mean time, though, I'll get my breakfast and eat your pancakes- which Charles has been raving to me about- quietly. Is that okay with you?"

She merely looked at me, unsure if she should continue glaring or feel bad. I didn't want either. I just wanted to feel like I was home again, and this wasn't it. This was the street. This was judgment and hate. I was at a loss of what to do and tried to imagine the fantasy land Charles was in when he told me it would all be fine. I knew it wouldn't. Mutants aren't that different from humans, we're really one in the same. We both feel hate, greed, joy, anger, jealousy…

It's just what's on the outside that differentiates us.

* * *

><p><strong>AN- <strong>HEY GUYS! So, this one was kinda iffy for me... I didn't really like how it turned out. Aislynn was being a major pain in the ass and refused to co-operate with me, and Raven pretty much just took on a life of her own. ANYWAY, I wanted to thank the very few people that reviewed:**Breathewithme, TenshiNanashi, **and **SoPhie**. AND the plethora of you that added this to your story alert lists. THANK YOU!

Hope I didn't lose anyone,

-{Lex}

**PS. PLEASE REVIEW! I love that you guys put this on story alert... But I need some feedback! Like it? Hate it? Tell me how to make it better!**


	4. Freak Out

"Stupid." I muttered, throwing myself on my bed. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."

_Why _had I lost it with Raven?

Because she deserved it, I reasoned. Because she's a spoiled, jealous little girl who doesn't know how lucky she is. Because all I was trying to do was be nice and she- a _mutant_- made a quick judgment based on my looks. Because she had no idea what it was like to be me.

Because all I had wanted was to be accepted and she _ruined _that for me.

But letting my anger get the best of me had most certainly not helped my case. Now, she would probably never speak to me again. Her relationship with Charles would be strained. And, personally, that little burst of confidence I had acquired while I had stood up to the blonde was now shattered, leaving me back at square one.

The bottom line: There was no way I could stay here.

I didn't belong. I mean, what was I thinking? I couldn't help save the world… I hadn't even been able to save myself from Damien until three years after the fact! There was no fucking way. Charles had been very nice to offer, but I wasn't worth it. I was a distraction, and that was the last thing these people needed. I was in the midst of ruining everything.

God, Raven _hated_ me.

I basically had two choices: the street, or trying to convince a very upset teenager that I was an okay person.

On the one hand, I had no belongings, nothing to call my own. Where would I go? I wasn't kidding when I said I didn't want to be back on the street… But I'd done it before. Homeless shelters. Tattered rags. Lecherous men. Desperate women and children. Drugs. Alcohol. _Poverty_.

I could do it again.

I _would_ do it again.

But on the other hand, life here was so _good_. There was always food, the house was shelter against the rest of the world, and other than Raven and the woman I had yet to meet, the company was good. Much better than the street.

But the blonde _despised _me.

Sighing, I made my way downstairs, very surprised to find that no one was in sight. There was quite a bit of banging from what seemed to be the basement and when I looked outside, I saw that almost everybody was in the garden, running or talking. Hank had his shoes off, and I found myself smiling as I witnessed his large, very un-human-like feet. Making my way to the kitchen, I saw the woman with dark hair washing the dishes. She immediately turned when she heard me enter the room, smiling at me warmly. "Oh, hi. I thought you'd be out training with everybody else." She finished washing a plate and wiped her hands on her jeans, approaching me slowly. "I'm Moira MacTaggert." She smiled. "Very nice to meet you, Siren."

I was taken aback at her blatant kindness and openness but smiled back, albeit a little suspiciously. No woman had _ever_ approached me with such civility. "…Nice to meet you, too."

"Do you need something?" She asked kindly, "Water, food… anything?"

I shook my head, trying to wrap my head around the fact that Moira was being so accommodating towards me after Raven had ripped me apart. I was a little unsure of how to act towards her. "Um, n-no thanks. I was actually looking for Charles."

"Oh, he_ just_ went upstairs to get some clothes for you. He should be down any minute now."

"Okay, thanks." I took a deep breath, looking at the brunette curiously. She was gorgeous, with warm brown eyes and rich brown hair that fell straight against her shoulders. She was a little taller than me and her skin was more pale. She was extremely beautiful. "You don't… hate me?" I asked quietly, flinching almost imperceptibly as the words came out.

The brunette laughed; a music laugh that sounded like ringing bells. My heart clenched in alarm. Why was she laughing at me? "Why would I hate you?"

I shrugged shyly and turned away from her, my cheeks burning in embarrassment. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._ "I dunno-I just-" I bit my lip and looked up toward the ceiling in frustration. Now, I was having trouble using my words. Fantastic.

"Raven will get over it." Moira assured me, "And, personally, I don't think that hating you because you're beautiful is worth it. Am I jealous? Maybe. I haven't decided yet."

I relaxed a little bit, my shoulders un-tensing, though I was more shell-shocked and confused than before. I was stuck between wanting to spontaneously hug the brunette and thinking that Moira MacTaggert was off her fucking _rocker_. "O-Oh. That's really…" I trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence. She chuckled at me.

"I'd imagine you don't get this kind of thing a lot."

I shook my head. "Not really." I replied quietly.

She shrugged. "Well, to me, you're a mutant just like everybody else here. You don't deserve more hate or praise than any of the others."

"You talk like you're not one of us." I said, suspicious as I backed away. Humans were as dangerous as mutants were, if not more so. There were more of them and less of us.

Moira observed my behavior and nodded slowly. "I'm not." She explained. "I'm more of an honorary mutant, really. I'm a CIA agent. I met everybody at our headquarters."

"They work for the government?" I demanded, my heart pounding, though I had done nothing wrong. I absently attributed it to being with Damien for so long and worked at quieting my body.

"Not anymore." The agent assured me, giving me a smile. "I came along for the ride because I believe in your cause. There's no way this war is going to end if Shaw is working both sides. Plus, thinking of you guys as anything other than human repulses me."

"Shaw? Who's Shaw?"

"The mutant that is trying to start World War Three."

Moira and I both turned towards the third voice, the brunette smiling as Charles entered the room, his arms filled with pieces of clothing. I briefly wondered why people had the habit of sneaking up on me, but let it go as soon as the man of the house turned his attention to me. "Shaw is the man we need to stop."

"What does _he_ do?" I asked curiously, feeling much more at ease now that the telepath was here.

"We don't know for sure, but it has something to do with the absorption and release of energy." Moira answered.

I nodded, thinking she was done, but the CIA agent continued talking. "Siren was just looking for you, Charles. Right Siren?"

I felt myself flush as the telepath smirked and raised a brow at me, my fingers fidgeting with the edges of my shirt. "Funny," the blue-eyed man answered, "I was looking for her as well. I came bearing gifts."

He handed me a pair of old sweatpants, a men's wifebeater, some socks, an elastic band, a toothbrush and some sneakers. "I hope they're okay." He continued, "Everything'll probably be big on you because it all belonged to me, but I really didn't want to borrow anything else from Raven."

"No, it's perfect!" I replied hastily, my fingers feeling the soft fabrics almost obsessively.

However, I paused, Charles had missed something. Something that was very important if I wanted to be doing any sort of training whatsoever. My cheeks flamed at the thought of asking for such a thing. "Thank you." I murmured, "It's just- Uh, Charles do you by any chance know if there's a, um, if there's a bra I could use? I went into my room this morning and my old stuff was gone and I just-"

I cut myself off, holding my breath to try and stop from blushing as Charles, once again, observed me. "Of course." He replied, "What- ah, I'm terribly sorry to be asking this, but- What… size… are you?"

I bit my lip, my cheeks flaming even more as frustrated tears threatened to spring to my eyes. I didn't know. Damien had done all my 'shopping' for me, and I was quite sure that I had grown since the last 'A cup' bra I had purchased three years ago.

After a moment of silence, it was obvious that I had no idea. I wanted to say something, _anything_ to make it sound like I wasn't an incompetent, pathetic excuse for a human being. But to no avail. I was extremely relieved when Moira spoke quickly. "She can use one of mine." The brunette insisted. "I'll get you one, okay? Hopefully we're about the same size."

"Thanks." I breathed, looking down at my bare feet. I felt like an idiot.

"Good," Charles said brightly, "Now that that's all settled… I'll meet you outside? In the courtyard where you were before."

I nodded, refusing to look up from the floor, jumping in surprise as the telepath put a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. Apologizing softly, he took his leave. Meanwhile, I was praying that the earth would swallow me whole.

Moira took me to her room, but I was too busy looking at the floor to notice anything else about where she was staying. The carpet was beautiful. Red and gold and detailed. Soft. I whispered a soft thanks as she handed me a plain black bra. "I hope it fits." She said kindly, "I mean, I know that you've got an amazing body so I'm not sure."

"Yeah, the most beautiful woman on earth." I muttered bitterly under my breath. "I'm perfect. New York City's very own Siren."

Her pause told me that she had heard what I'd said, but she made no comment. "I'm a 34 C." She told me instead.

And then I was in my room, closing the door and locking it behind me to make sure I had no unwanted guests.

The first thing to put on was the bra. I struggled with it for a moment, fighting with the clasp before I was finally able to put it on. Walking to the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror curiously, the black fabric comfortably fitting my round breasts.

Thank God, Moira's bra seemed to fit me better than the ones Damien had bought for me.

Traipsing back into the bedroom, I pulled Charles' wifebeater over my head, inhaling deeply as I did so. It smelled like him; soap, musk, sweat, deodorant. I liked it. And because I associated it with Charles, I also associated it with home. Safety.

The only thing that gave me a hard time was the sweatpants. I was swimming in them, which must have meant that they fit the telepath with room to spare. I rolled the band a couple of times, making them an okay length. They fell on my hips loosely but were okay. I wouldn't lose them.

I stood in the bathroom again, tying my hair up with an elastic band the telepath had provided for me as I thought over my decision to stay once more. Well, it wasn't like I had a choice now, was it? Leaving would only bring me guilt. I had given Charles my word.

But dealing with Raven _and_ my freakish mutation? That was asking a lot.

Looking myself dead in the eye, I squared my shoulders. "You can do this."

And yet, with every step towards the gardens, all I could think was: _I can't do this_.

My sneaker-clad feet crunched against the gravel, my feet sliding around in the shoes that were much too large for me. I felt people looking at me from across the lawn, my own eyes trained on the floor as I made my way to the telepath and the young men with him, my heart stick in my very constricted throat. _There is no way I can do this._

Sean and Hank were with Charles; the latter of the two waving shyly as I swore Raven was looking at me from the parlor window, glaring. I waved back at Hank, and walked towards the three men, smiling at the embarrassed teen in particular as he nervously shifted his feet. I stood beside him and looked down at his odd mutation with a huge grin on my face. "Your feet are incredible!"

Hank seemed to relax at my enthusiasm and Charles smiled right along with me. But I was anything but calm and enthusiastic. I was going into this kicking and screaming. I was nervous. Jumpy. Stressed. Frustrated. Lost. Found. Happy. Sad. I wanted to vomit. My mutation was unpredictable and uncontrollable. Once the tingling in my fingertips spread to my chest and lungs and heart, _it_ controlled _me_.

The last time I screamed, I killed a man.

"So, what's your gift, Siren?" Sean asked curiously.

I wanted to tell him that it wasn't a gift. It was a curse. But I didn't. I merely shrugged and bit my lip while I tried to keep my breakfast down. "I, um, when I sing, things… happen to people."

"What kind of things?" Hank asked curiously, confidently. It surprised me, but I answered nonetheless. "I guess I entrance them," I murmured unsurely, "I just- it's starts tingling in my fingertips, and then The Warmth spreads to my chest and I just sing. It feels.. good."

"Wow." Sean commented, obviously very eager to please me. "So, you can control people?"

I bit my lip. "I don't think so. I mean, I don't know. I think I might've done it once, but I can't- it's all fuzzy."

But that was a dirty, filthy lie. I remembered. I remembered every fucking detail.

I remembered that it had been Damien. I had just finished with one of his clients and the monster had released me from one of his illusions, once again giving me feelings of sickness and disgust and shame when I realized that, no, I hadn't been making love to my perfect man, I'd been fucking another drug dealer. And he'd made me feel like I was _enjoying_ it.

It was like he was cheating me out of the fact that it was rape.

When I saw him sitting on his usual chair in the corner of the filthy of room, I thought I was going to puke. I had learnt very quickly that the only way Damien could create an illusion, especially two different ones, was if he was in the same room as the people he was trying to mess with. So, he'd stay in the room as I fucked his clients because he needed to make sure I thought I was having the night of my life, keep me from running, and make sure the client thought he was in a high class hotel room in order to squeeze every last penny from the guy's pocket.

So, every time I was with one of his clients, Damien watched. He was concentrating on the illusions of course, but he watched nonetheless. And when a client was done, my boss was usually very horny.

You can imagine what would happen next.

And yet, that night, I was so angry, so sick and tired of being used and abused that before Damien could sew my mouth I told him to stop. I told him to turn around and go jump off a cliff. And he stopped, and he turned… And he made it to the door before coming right back and taking me more violently then he'd ever done before. There were never any illusions with him.

_"You know what I love about you, Aislynn? I can break you every night, and you'll still be fuckable the next morning."_

"I can't do this." I breathed, not even realizing that I my fingernails were digging into my palms until Charles gently took my right fist and pried it open. Sean and Hank were looking on sympathetically and as a light wind blew by I realized why; I'd been crying. Angrily wiping my face with my free hand, I turned to Charles, shaking my head. "I can't do this."

"Yes, you can." He reassured me. "I know you can."

"I don't want to remember." I gritted out, trying to stop the panic from rising in my chest, my fingertips tingling wildly, The Warmth spreading like wildfire. "I _can't_ remember. Anymore and I'll scream."

"You can scream." Sean replied sweetly. "It's okay."

I shook my head again and tried to calm myself down, not trusting myself to speak. Hank looked at me curiously. "No, she can't."

"Of course she can," The redhead insisted, "Everyone can scream."

Charles seemed to catch on, his hand squeezing mine more out of excitement than comfort as everything seemed to click for him. "_Siren_." He breathed, looking at me. "Of course! Hank, you're brilliant! Her name… She's-"

"A real Siren." Hank finished, "The personification of the mythological creature."

"Exquisite." The telepath breathed, looking at me in a new light. "A surreal, almost impossible beauty to lure men. The voice of an angel. And when she screams-"

I ripped my hand out of his, putting my hands to my mouth as I backed away from the three men, my head swimming with images of my very recent past. All I could hear was my blood pumping in my veins and I closed my eyes tightly to try and calm down, focusing on something calm. What was calm?

Charles.

_"So I'm going to dance and sing for people? For men?"_

_"It's what you were meant to do, Aislynn. It'll be look but don't touch kind of deal. Burlesque style."_

Blue eyes and dark hair. He was handsome. Very handsome. I took a deep breath.

_"This wasn't part of the deal, Damien."_

_"Honey, do you know how much this guy is willing to pay me? Ten thousand. Ten thousand dollars if you fuck him. We could be living the good life with cash like that. One night, Siren. One night."_

Charles was kind. Sweet. The opposite of the Illusionist. He'd never make me do anything I didn't want to do.

_"STOP IT! LET GO OF ME YOU FUCKING- HELP! SOMBODY HELP ME!_

_A slap to the face. "If you _ever_ try and pull something like that again, Aislynn, I'll make you rue the day you were born. Understand?"_

_"Too fucking late."_

_He sewed my mouth shut._

I wasn't there now. I was HERE. Here, staying in a house that belonged to Charles Xavier. I was as far away from that life as humanely possible. I would never do anything I didn't want to do ever again. I would never have to sell myself. I would never have to be treated like a lapdog.

Opening my eyes, I frantically searched for the dark-haired telepath, hearing him faintly trying to get my attention. "Calm your mind, Siren. Siren, look at me, you need to calm down. Siren!" Charles grabbed my hands, yanking me from my own head and sending me crashing back to reality with a force that knocked the breath out of me. I began to hyperventilate, eyes focusing on everything and nothing as the telepath took my face in his hands and forced me to concentrate on him.

"Make it stop." I begged, searching his eyes, "Please, make it _stop._"

He tried to shush me, explaining that my mind was screaming so loud I was hurting him, but I didn't really understand any of that. Instead, I grabbed his hands and placed them at my temples. "Just make it stop." I whispered.

"Siren, you're hysterical-"

"Because you don't _see_!" I cried, pressing his hands to my head, "You don't _know. _You don't know what he made me do! You don't know what a sick sonofabitch he was. I do. 'Cause he's in my fucking _head_. Get him out of my head!"

The brunette screwed his eyes shut and growled in frustration, his hands drawing back to his own temples. "You're too wound up." He explained, his face twisting in pain. "You're too _loud_. Siren, you need to calm down-"

"But I can't!" I sobbed, "Because I'm _there_! I'm in the rooms and with his _clients_ and then he's _on top of me_, sweating and grunting and I just want it to stop- please, make it stop!"

"Siren, look at me." I kept babbling, "LOOK AT ME, DAMMIT!" Startled, I locked my eyes on his, hyperventilating as the telepath wiped my face. Apparently, I was still crying. "You're okay." He assured me. "You're with me now. With Charles, remember? You're staying with me, in my house, and nothing will come after you here. Remember, Siren? Aislynn? _He can't hurt you anymore_."

I took a deep breath and nodded, hiccupping from hysteria as I felt the world right itself and calm. I was okay. I was safe. Ever so slowly, I came back.

I can only imagine how I looked. My face flushed from crying, my hair mussed and lashes stuck together, eyes red, nose running. And yet I knew that despite all of that, I still looked pretty. A shattered, damaged, broken beauty.

I wanted to throw myself in front of a bus.

Charles looked at me, his eyes wide and sympathetic, "Can I touch you?" He asked softly, thankfully having the presence of mind to actually ask me such a question.

I bit my lip, my first reaction to move away at his request. After all, in my world, touching was usually followed by, or simply was, sex. No holding hands, hugging, or really holding of any kind. Nothing innocent about it. Not like when the telepath asked me.

And so, swallowing my fear, I nodded, shaking like a leaf as he gathered me in his arms and held me to his body, making sure to keep my mouth right by his ear in case he tried anything.

But he didn't. He merely held me, his body shielding me from the horrors of the outside world as I calmed myself down. I was angry. Frustrated. Hysterical. Upset. Ashamed. Embarrassed. My behavior was unacceptable. I burrowed even deeper into Charles, this time whishing I would disappear. I was a broken, scared little girl. I was pathetic. I could never help save the world.

I was _so fucking weak_.

"Siren?" The telepath cooed, "Siren, may I ask you a question?"

I hiccupped, my face wet and nose runny. I was a hot mess. "I'm sorry-"

"It's okay." He coaxed, "You're okay. But do you think you could answer me? I need to ask you this, it's very important."

I burrowed into him again, nodding my head as I took deep breaths. He was trying his absolute hardest to stay supportive, but his patience was wearing thin. He was too excited for my answers, and wanted them fast.

I was having a hard time breathing, let alone answering personal questions.

"Would I be correct in assuming that your scream would end a human life?" He asked quickly, zealously.

_An eighteen year-old girl on my kitchen floor, blood and cerebral spinal fluid seeping out of her ears. Diana. _I nodded, squeezing his baggy sweatshirt tightly between my fingers as I banished images of a middle-aged woman from my mind this time; gurgling and choking on the red substance. _Mom_.

"I hurt people." I tried to explain, ashamed. "But I didn't mean it! I swear, I never mean it! I just- I can't stop it. I get all warm and then it just takes over and I don't-"

"It's okay." Charles assured me. "Trust me, my dear. Everything will be okay. You're not the only one with a dangerous aspect to your mutation. Most of us have them."

"Have _you_ killed people?" I challenged darkly, my eyes closing in an attempt to forget. Mom. Diana. James. By the time I had left Damien I wasn't even sure if he was dead or alive.

Charles forced me to look at him, bringing me back to the present. "You do that a lot." He murmured, wiping a fresh batch of tears from my cheeks. "You go into your own mind."

I merely stared at him, still frustrated and upset with myself. I wasn't _supposed_ to be crying. I wasn't _supposed _to be acting pitiful and pathetic. I was strong, dammit! I had undergone things people only experienced in their darkest nightmares. I had been enslaved, broken, and put back together only to be broken again. I may have looked fragile and whimsical, but I was tough. Calloused and scarred… So why the _hell_ was I crying?

"Because it's something that needs to be done." Charles' soft voice whispered in my ear, "You _are_ strong, Aislynn. You just need to cry. Everybody needs to cry eventually."

And then I was furious. I pushed myself away from him, glaring and wiping my face harshly, snot and tears on my hands. "This whole thing was a mistake." I said emotionlessly, beginning to make my way around the house in the direction I hoped to driveway was in. How fucking _dare he_?

The telepath grabbed my arm in an attempt to stop me, but I ripped the appendage from his grasp easily and kept going. He was not the first to have tried that tactic on me. And, he, like the others, took to following me like a pathetic lost puppy when I didn't turn back to look at him. "Aislynn- Aislynn, wait! Please, Aislynn, just slow down- Please, just listen-"

"To what?" I spun on my heel to face him, our bodies bumping due to his inability to stop walking. "To your half-assed apology? Huh? 'Oh, Aislynn, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to enter your mind and hear your thoughts, honest. I wanted to help you, Aislynn. I really did.' Well, Charles, you sure did help me: You just made my life a hell of a lot easier." I started walking again. "You know, the pressure of saving the world was really starting to get to me."

"Aislynn-"

"WHAT DID I SAY MY NAME WAS?" I screeched, stopped and facing him once again, his body crumpled on the gravel as he held his ears.

"S-Siren." He murmured. "Your name is Siren."

"Then why are you calling me Aislynn?" I asked testily, giving his body a light kick. "Fuck you, Charles. You know, I didn't ask for much. Hell, I would've been happy sleeping in the fucking _grass_. All I wanted was for you to forget about my past- about _Aislynn_- and stay out of my head." Tears were threatening to spill from my lids again and I screamed in frustration, not only causing the salty droplets continue their journey down my cheeks, but making Charles squeeze his head and moan loudly in pain.

I needed to scream. I _wanted_ to scream. A real scream. One that would make him hurt. He wanted to know about my past? About who I really was? Fine… I'd fucking _show him_. He could experience it himself.

I opened my mouth only to collapse beside him, pounding my fists against his body half-heartedly as I sobbed for the hundredth time that day. Charles, meanwhile, sat up as best he could and hugged me to his body in an attempt to stop my hitting. "I'm sorry, Siren. I'm so sorry."

I looked at him, mind clouded as I stopped trying to physically harm the telepath and merely looked at him instead. God, even _I_ was getting whiplash from my mood swings. "Just kill me."

"Excuse me?"

"You're smart." I muttered, "You could probably find a way to destroy me. Do it. Kill me. I'm a danger to others, so just do it. End me. Please."

He didn't. Instead, the telepath merely held me even closer, trying to quiet me, tend to me, help me. Promising he'd never make me feel violated ever again and that I was part of his family now. Telling me that he'd help me control my voice and mind even if it killed him.

I stayed quiet. I let him calm me. And I tried not to think of how similar he and Damien were in that moment.

"_I j-just ran a-away from h-home. And I'm s-scared and t-tired and-"_

"_Shh, Aislynn, it'll be alright. We're a family now, and families care for each other. I promise, we'll figure this out, okay? I'll help you control it. I'm like you, too. It'll be alright, Darling. You're alright."_

I prayed to God that this family was different.

* * *

><p>So, I'm sorry this is so late, but it's SUPER long so I hope that makes up for it... Once again, I'm not so sure about this one, but yeah. Not a heckuva lot happens here, but you guys needed to learn a little more about Aislynn and what better way than screaming fights and freak outs? Please leave your comments! I was completely overwhelmed with the response I got last time and was over the freaking moon! Thank you! I'd name you all... But I'm lame and have forgotten how to access my reviews. Consequently, I can't reply to your reviews either. Hopefully, I'll get that sorted out soon. Sorry!<p>

Hope you enjoy it,

-{Lex}


	5. First Session

It not only seemed that darkness now followed me everywhere, but it was becoming increasingly clear that the solitude and loneliness that came with the physical aspect of the darkness itself was where I was least comfortable. And yet I stayed in the darkness for forty-eight hours after my mental breakdown, sitting behind my bed with the lights off, my body curling into itself.

I stayed in my own head. Not coming out for meals, and drinking water from the bathroom sink. I spent time thinking of Damien… Of Mom and Dad, of Diana and James.

And I cried. God, I cried until I couldn't cry anymore.

But out of the darkness came a certain feeling of lightness I didn't know I had the ability of possessing. I felt not comfortable, but more at ease with myself. Not happy, but alive. And it was that same feeling of life and sense of personal existence that brought me out of my room a different person. I was not Siren, nor Aislynn. I was Existence, and doing so in the only and best way I knew how.

That's how I found myself in the study with Charles…

A crash. _A fist_. Glass breaking. _Drugs. _A smile. _Hands. Touching. Touching. Touching._ A whisper. _Ghosts. Ghosts everywhere. Fuzzy figures patrolling the room. Large, small; all naked, all walking. Touching. A yell._

A yell. Eyes snapped open. Knees bruising. Body curling in on itself.

"Siren-"

A hand, coming to rest just below my shoulder blade. I shrugged it off, pounding my fists on the floor in frustration, my eyes closed as I tried to slow my racing heart, my body so tense I couldn't stop myself from shaking.

Every Goddamn time.

"Siren-"

"Don't." I muttered, swatting him away again and forcing myself to my feet, "I'm fine."

He gave me a look, clearly communicating to me that he knew that I was not, indeed, fine. I ignored him, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. "Siren-"

"I'm _fine_, Charles." I gritted out, cracking an eye open. "Again."

"I think you've had enough, Darling-"

I growled at him, baring my teeth as his hand paused in its path towards my shoulder. "I'm _not_ your _Darling_. And I already told you; I'm fine. I can get it this time."

"No, you _can't_. Your mind is fried, Siren."

I ignored him yet again, closing my eyes and trying to concentrate. I felt a familiar warmth tingle at my fingertips and bit my lip as it spread through my veins. I took a deep breath, my brows knitting as it shot up my spinal column, my head suddenly filled with half-images and memories.

_A door. White. Open. Two people- beautiful people- talking. A girl and a boy. The boy leans forward and gives the girl a gentle kiss. She smiles. He smiles and looks up, eyes widening in a sort of alarm as he sees something staring at him. _

_It's scarred and ugly. Hunched. It's a girl, who takes one look at him and runs past them, up the stairs, her heart pounding. She can hear the girl yelling, making up excuses for the boy: "She's this adopted freak we took in from the circus, James. She's not well, we're caring for her-"_

_Lies. The Ugly Girl slams the door to her room, looking at the piece of paper she had long since forgotten was in her hands._

_A picture of the boy and a different girl together, smiling, a heart around them. And as the Ugly Girl stared at the girl in the drawing, the girl labeled 'Aislynn' despite her beautiful appearance, the Girl ripped the piece of paper in two, fat tears running down her cheeks._

_James-_

And then it was blank.

My eyes snapped open and the first thing I saw was Charles' face alarmingly close to my own, his eyes closed, fingertips poised at my temples, barely brushing my skin. He was frowning- concentrating… He was in my head. I realized mildly that I didn't feel him in there, and the thought briefly scared me, but I didn't move. I couldn't move. I didn't _want_ to move. Because, for that small moment, my mind was completely blank. There were no ghosts, no voices, no memories.

There was nothing.

And, God, did nothing ever feel like _something_.

It was happiness and calmness. Freedom. And as the telepath's eyes fluttered open and his fingers drifted from my head, it all came rushing back. I took a deep breath and whimpered involuntarily, unaccustomed to the feeling of such a full, heavy mind after a moment of such clarity. "How much of that did you see?" I croaked out, opening my eyes to catch Charles' pitying stare.

"You love him." The telepath murmured, his voice a mixture of surprise, curiosity and perhaps a little bit of envy. "James. But he's with your sister."

I looked away from him, biting my lip as I felt my body begin to turn cold. "Was." I breathed out.

He frowned at me while I merely looked at him, begging him not to say the words out loud. He knew what I had done, of that fact I was most certain. But he didn't say it. He simply stared at me as realization dawned, his expression expectant as his eyes searched my own. He wanted me to say it.

"I killed them." I whispered, my eyes not leaving his, once again begging, though this time for his understanding. He had to know I had no idea screaming would end my family. He had to know- to_ understand_ that James had never once looked my way, and that I was upset. I was angry. After being looked at like I was a freak of nature, I wanted him to _hurt. _Because didn't he understand? Didn't he see that I was hopelessly in love with him? That I would've given him everything? Not like _her_. Diana; who flirted with other boys shamelessly. I would've given myself to him, heart and soul… And yet, he looked at me like I was an abomination.

I had known it was him, coming to call on a sister who was out. I knew that he had been the one to knock, and so I opened the door- despite being expressly told not to- and smiled. But he took one look at me and stumbled back; disgusted, afraid… _sickened_ by my appearance.

And I became upset. I yelled. I told him to never come back. I told him he was miserable and pathetic. I told him my sister hated him and I did, too. And I yelled and cried and sobbed and I could barely see him through the tears but I kept yelling. I wanted him to hurt like he made me hurt… And then I heard a crunch and a honk and James was gone. Run over. And I, too ashamed and scared of what I'd done, went back inside and tried to forget.

"Charles, it was an accident, I swear-" the words came out before I could stop them, and I instantly recognized the falseness of them. I had meant for him to hurt. Maybe not die, but hurt. I had meant for him to experience excruciating pain for what he'd done to me.

"I believe you." The telepath murmured, blue eyes so trusting I could hardly bear it.

So I turned my head, clenching my eyes shut. I didn't want to tell him the truth. Charles, taking this as a sore subject for me, instantly changed it, his voice taking on a more curious, scientific tone. "You weren't always beautiful, I'm assuming." He prodded gently. Still, I refused to look at him.

"Siren?"

"I was." I told him, looking at my feet instead of his eyes. "My parents may not have thought so, _society_ may not have thought so- but I was. I was gorgeous. It's _now_ that I'm ugly."

Charles looked at me a moment. "I don't believe that."

"You can believe whatever you want to believe, but beauty- true beauty- is not purely based on the aesthetic. My mother had a gorgeous appearance, but she was one of the most ugly people I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. I've learnt that it's rare, you know? To find someone who's truly beautiful." And this time I did face him, my own violet iris' locking onto his clear blue ones, their depths full of unwavering trust. I felt my heart hammer in my chest, the words coming out in one soft breath: "Charles, I lied."

He stepped away from me then, thinking me dangerous. And though I was glad for the extra space, glad that he was finally seeing me for what I was, I still felt the familiar dull ache of pain in my chest. It seemed to hurt more now that I had become accustomed to living without it.

"What about?"

I closed my eyes, frowning as I tried to stop the onslaught of tears. I had never said the words out loud before. "…I-I meant to… hurt him." I bit my lip here, looking at him. He looked like he didn't understand. "H-He just- He would always look at me l-like I was _filth_. He thought I was _disgusting_. A-And my sister: _God_, my sister." My voice took on a bitter tone. "She didn't appreciate him. I would've. But he didn't like _me_. I just wanted to hurt him. I never meant to kill him, but I wanted him to _hurt_. Y-You understand that, right?"

My orbs searched his frantically. And he slowly nodded his head, still looking at me with caution. "You wanted to make him feel as badly as you felt." He stated slowly.

I nodded, speaking hurriedly. "I didn't want to kill him. I _never_ wanted that. I just- I wanted-" I cut myself off. "Please, Charles, please understand. I'm not a bad person. A-At east, I don't _think_ I am. Please, believe me."

"I do." He looked at me, stepping up until he was looking down at me, the tip of his nose brushing the bridge of mine. "I do believe you." His voice was very soft, and I looked up at him in a sort of amazement, flabbergasted that he believed me just like that. There was no begging, no pleading, no violence. He simply nodded his head. He trusted me.

I suddenly had the urge to tell him my entire life story sparing no details, in some sick experiment to see if he'd stick around until the end. But I held my tongue, realizing how dangerous the trust game was. I'd fallen prey to it once before, and I was not going to do so again.

"You know, I think that you're truly beautiful, Siren. Despite everything that's happened to you, I truly believe that you are a real beauty." By this time, Charles had taken a small step away from me, just enough for our proximity to be considered socially proper.

"I'm not fishing for compliments." I told him, a little uncomfortable that he thought such things of me. I chose my next words carefully. "And I thank you, but tend to disagree. Murderers cannot be beautiful."

He cocked his head to the side. "I'd tend to disagree."

But I wasn't going to play this game. Not with him, not with anybody. I recognized the look in his eye as he smiled at me. Charles Xavier may have been abnormal in almost every other aspect of his life, but when it came to attraction and women, he was exceedingly normal. And though for the first time in years the thought of a man being attracted to me suited me just fine, I couldn't allow anyone, not even the telepath, to get so emotionally close. It wasn't a question of carnal attraction, but animalistic need… The need to survive. And so, it was with a small smirk that I sidled up the handsome man before me, my fingers straightening out his shirt and brushing the sweaty strands of hair from his face, raising my brows at him. He swallowed thickly but managed a cool smirk of his own… The bastard thought he was in, did he?

With my lips close to his ear, I slowly raised my knee until it brushed his crotch, my teasing, mischievous nature coming into play. "Don't get cocky, Charles." I breathed, "Arrogance is a dangerous thing."

"H-How so?" His breathing hitched.

I raised my brow. Jerking him closer to my body, hearing his slight groan of pain as my knee painfully ground into him, his chest pressed flush against mine. "For one, it makes you sloppy." I gritted out, "I am not some cheap strumpet. And I will not tolerate any advances from you, d'you understand me?" I jerked my knee even higher, making the telepath yelp. He nodded obediently.

"'C-Course. My apologies. That was, most inconsiderate and unprofessional of me."

I stepped back, eyeing him with a mild air of curiosity. Never before had a man stepped down so easily. "Damn straight."

I had turned to walk out when I felt him grasp my wrist, spinning me to face him. I had originally planned to glare at him, but his embarrassed expression quickly made me change my mind. "I'm truly sorry, Siren." He told me softly, "I was obviously not in my right mind."

I nodded suspiciously, narrowing my eyes at him slightly. Was this some sort of trick? He smiled at me sheepishly. "I was grossly insensitive, no doubt it's much too son for you to even consider any sort of romantic involvement with anyone," he breathed out in an embarrassed laugh. "I implore your forgiveness," He murmured, looking at me kindly, "But even the strongest of men cannot help but be tempted by you. I will not make the same mistake twice. No doubt my actions are the result of your gift."

That last bit stung, but I quickly hid the hurt look that must have flashed across my face, nodding with a small smile. Charles Xavier was most definitely abnormal in _all_ aspects of his life. "Already forgotten." I smiled. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get something to eat. Want anything?"

The telepath gave me the most adorable, beautiful grin of relief, shaking his head slightly. Begrudgingly, I acknowledged that the simple expression made my stomach flip. "No thank you, I'm afraid I have some work to do with Sean before I can even attempt to think about food. But I'll see you later, yes?"

"Y-Yeah. Of course." I murmured, backing away from him. "Well, um, bye, then."

"Oh and Siren?"

I turned.

"You did very well today." He praised. "Much better than I had anticipated."

"Thanks."

Five minutes later, I found myself in the kitchen facing the back of none other than the infamous metal bender, Erik Lensherr himself. He was doing dishes, obviously just having finished eating lunch himself.

Still slightly shaken from my encounter with Charles, I walked up beside him, determined to get my mind off the attractive telepath. He affected me more than I'd have cared to admit. Erik didn't acknowledge my presence, which was fine with me. That gave me time to observe further.

My eyes went straight for his inner forearm and the figures that had been inked into his skin, numbers that had reduced an entire people into nothing but cattle. But markings. It was disturbing, and my hand reached out to touch his flesh in an attempt to stop my mind from racing. My fingers brushed his skin and he immediately grabbed my hand, his long, soapy, elegant appendages crushing my own as he glared at me. And then, seeing the startled and knowing look in my eyes, he slowly drew back. "Does it ever go away?" I asked somewhat rhetorically, motioning to his reaction as I gently pushed him over, my hands getting busy on the dishes.

Erik didn't answer.

"The pain, the distrust, the memories- I guess it never does, does it? Maybe it gets easier," I continued, pondering morosely, "Maybe it's the prospect of revenge that makes it so." I turned to him, motioning my head to the numbers engraved upon his skin. "Does it still hurt?"

He leaned on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at the floor. "Every fucking day."

"H-How old were you?" I asked bravely. "When- When'd it happen?"

"I was eleven."

"Eleven?" I breathed. "I was sixteen."

"When he raped you?" Erik asked emotionlessly. "He used you? Filthy human."

"He was one of us." I explained softly. "He told me he could help me, that he understood. I killed my family by accident, and when I ran away from it all, he was the first one to take me in after my stint in the shelter."

"He was one of us?"

"An illusionist." I said, my voice and body and emotions becoming detached as I continued, "It was brilliant, really. He took it slow, got me to trust him, to love him, and then started asking it as a favor: one guy here, another there, dancing, teasing. Soon enough I was trapped in one of his illusions, thinking I was having the best night of my life with some handsome stranger, when I was really servicing his customers." I paused, taking a deep breath to compose myself. "It was brilliant."

"It was a vile, manipulative, twisted, sick endeavor." He spat. "He turned on his own kind."

"His own kind." I repeated bitterly. "No. He wasn't one of us. A mutant, yes. But not one of _us_." I forced a smile, nudging him with my hip. "We're the good guys, Erik. Like superheroes, but cooler."

He rolled his eyes, looking at me with a sort of spark I had never seen before. Taking my soapy hand in his, Erik Lensherr smiled at me brilliantly.

"We're the future of the human race, Siren."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, I'm so sorry for the long wait for this. I was absolutely overwhelmed at the response for this and cannot tell you how incredibly happy all your reviews and story alerts made me... Thanks so much! So, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I was really unhappy with Aislynn in the last one, so I hope this hasn't cemented her as a Mary-Sue. Please review, your criticisms and opinions mean the world to me :)**

**-Lex**


End file.
